Fluff Fridays
by jaylene
Summary: tumblr prompt fills for fluff Fridays. feel free to prompt me at thefreckledone over on tumblr.
1. food prompt

"Food" prompt [izusaku]

* * *

Izuna nearly growled as he walked down the streets of New York City, beyond angry at his idiot business associates. Their meeting had run three hours later than it should have and Izuna was, as his brother termed it, "hangry."

He couldn't help it though, it was past eleven in the evening and he hadn't had dinner yet. Izuna Uchiha, while a fierce businessman, always made sure to eat at least three meals a day on time. So he navigated his way through the Big Apple, passerby (even native New Yorkers) leaping aside at the murderous scowl on his face.

His stomach grumbled and Izuna stopped dead in the street, glancing around for possible food options. He wanted something quick and fast. There was a seedy bar on one side of the street, a pizzeria, and a bright purple food truck. Izuna didn't feel like heading into the bar and dealing with drunks nor did he feel in the mood for pizza.

Mood black, Izuna stepped over to the food truck, examining the light blue lettering on the side: _Bowled and Beautiful._ He snorted a bit at the pun, wondering what Madara would think of it.

"Howdy," a voice said from within the truck. "If it's in a bowl, we can dish it out. How may I serve you?"

Izuna looked up into bright green eyes and felt his tongue tie. The woman in the truck had long pink hair pulled into a high ponytail and she wore a jaunty smirk on her face. She had a lot of energy for the time of night and Izuna felt some of his stress melt away from her infectious joy.

"What's the special?" he asked, still a bit dazed.

"Today's special is tonkotsu ramen which is a pork bone broth," she said. "It's $11."

Izuna's stomach gurgled on cue. The woman's smile grew and Izuna laughed a little as he said, "That sounds delicious."

She nodded, taking his money before ducking back into the truck. "You know, we chose to do this dish because of a dear friend of mine." She snorted, cracking an egg on the stovetop before turning back to the noodles. "You know, he's a bit of a dullard but a day doesn't go by where he isn't eating ramen."

"You're kidding," Izuna said, laughter clear in his voice. "Is his name, by chance, Naruto Uzumaki?"

Sakura paused, turning to him and giggling. "Well, I suppose his reputation precedes him."

"I was just in a business meeting with him and my nephew Sasuke. He is quite…talkative," said Izuna, hesitant to insult her friend.

"You're the uncle?" Sakura asked. "The one who harassed Sasuke all through high school?"

"Ah, no," Izuna replied with a wry smile. "That would be my older brother, Madara. I'm Izuna."

Sakura grinned back, a little chagrined. "Sorry about that. It's just…well, Sasuke regaled us all the way from high school to now with horror stories of the uncle who terrorized him. Of course, he probably deserved it, the little shit that he is. Anyone who knocks that ego down a few pegs is good in my books."

Izuna nodded, more than a little enthralled now. This woman managed to put up with his nephew and not take any of his nonsense? She was absolutely lovely. He'd almost completely forgotten his hunger by the time she handled a steaming hot bowl over to him. He nearly moaned, it smelled so heavenly.

"Please stop by again anytime," said Sakura. "It's nice to get to know some of Sasuke's relatives, especially the ones with blackmail material."

"Of course," Izuna said, bowing his head slightly before stepping away.

He took a bite of the ramen and, as expected, it was phenomenal.

* * *

 _Six Months Later_

Izuna straightened the cuffs of his jacket, smoothed his hair, and grabbed his phone with a look of intense concentration upon his face.

Madara fought the urge to laugh.

Like clockwork, Izuna was primping and preening. He always did so at 11:30 on the dot, right before lunchtime. It never failed to make Madara smile.

"Going to see her again?" Madara teased, unable to help himself.

A light flush rose high on Izuna's cheeks as he turned to his brother. "So what if I am?" he asked, a defensive note in his voice. "The food is great."

Madara leaned forward against his desk, smirk curling up his lips. "I'm _sure_ it's the food; nothing to do with the pretty woman who owns the business."

Izuna ignored him, swiping his thumb over the screen of his phone and examining the most recent posts by _Bowled and Beautiful_. Unbeknownst to him, Izuna began to smile, a beautiful, honest smile.

Madara, watching his brother, softened. It had been months— _years_ —since he had seen his brother so happy, so excited for something. They'd been running a cutthroat business empire for far too long and it warmed Madara to see his younger brother's happiness. Plus, they'd been out of the country for the past few weeks and Madara knew his brother was eager to see the restauranteur.

"Well, go on then," Madara said, shooing his brother from his office. "Don't want to keep your girl waiting on your date."

Madara laughed, long and low as Izuna flipped him off before leaving the office. Still chuckling, Madara pulled up a social media page, looking at the three excited women standing in front of a colorful food truck. He read the short biography, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Sakura Haruno, huh?" he said, eyes on the pink haired woman in the middle of the picture. "Good luck brother."

* * *

Izuna followed the map on his phone, feeling something like a stalker as he did so. Still, the ladies of _Bowled and Beautiful_ posted their locations online for a reason, to help long-time customers and fans find them throughout all of New York City. So what if Izuna ate there every day? It just made him an excellent, memorable customer.

(Even if he went every time with the intention of asking Sakura for a date before chickening out.)

So, Izuna made his way to Bryant Park, smiling when he caught sight of the bright purple truck. There was already a long line of about thirty people outside but that didn't bother Izuna in the slightest. He'd waited in lines much longer before for this food.

He watched as the redhead, Karin, flitted about, pulling orders and yelling them out to the women in the truck itself. He paused as Karin caught sight of him, expression lighting with what could only be called "shit-eating."

"Yo, Sakura!" she called out.

Izuna's heart fluttered as she appeared, annoyance clear on her face.

"What?" she demanded, cocking an eyebrow at Karin. "We're a bit bogged down if you haven't noticed."

Karin just smirked, gesturing to Izuna. In turn, he fidgeted a bit, hoping he didn't look nervous or flustered. Sakura's face went through multiple expressions, some too fast for Izuna to catch before settling into a beautiful smile.

"I'm taking five," Sakura said, looking at Karin.

Karin nodded. "Make it fifteen," she said, accepting Sakura's quick hug through the window. "Have fun."

Izuna watched, hope in his chest as Sakura made her way to him.

"Thought I'd seen the last of you, Uchiha," said Sakura, a teasing tone in her voice.

"I didn't think you'd notice my departure," Izuna said, a bit surprised and happy.

"Are you kidding? You're our most loyal customer," Sakura replied. She paused, flushing. "Besides, I always make your usual with extra care."

"Really?" said Izuna, heart light and buoyant.

"Well, of course," said Sakura. "You always manage to find our location and come, rain or shine. I was…worried when you didn't show for two weeks straight. I was a bit concerned something happened to you."

"I'm sorry," Izuna said, feeling incredibly guilty. "Madara and I had to go out to France on a last-minute business trip. I apologize for worrying you."

"It's fine," Sakura said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You could always give me your number to make up for it; keep me from having to worry."

Izuna's eyes went wide and he heard himself stammering, "Y-yeah, of course!" He fumbled with his phone before pressing it into Sakura's hands. "Here."

Sakura grabbed it up, typing her number in and sending a text to herself. She turned her gaze back to Izuna, leveling him with a bright grin. "I need to head back in before Ino murders me. I'll catch you at the beginning of the line."

So saying, Sakura hesitated for a brief moment before pressing a kiss to his cheek. She hurried off, waving to him all the while and ignoring the whistles of the crowd in line.

Izuna stood stock-still, fingers pressed against the warm spot where the feeling of Sakura's lips lingered. He jolted when his phone vibrated, looking down at the text he'd just received.

 **Izuna [11:43 AM]: Want to go out tonight?**

 **Sakura [11:45 AM]: 6:30.**

Izuna glanced up, catching sight of Sakura watching him through the food truck window. She looked nervous, biting her lip. Izuna grinned, turning his gaze back to his phone. He felt a little ruffled but he did his best to keep his calm as he typed out a response.

 **Izuna [11:46 AM]: I can't wait.**


	2. roommates prompt

"Roommates" prompt [madasakuobi]

* * *

Sakura swung the door to her new apartment open, exhaustion hanging over her. The hospital was overrun following the war and Sakura was coming off of a double shift that left her drained. Still, it was a good sort of drained, an accomplished sort of drained.

She was an internationally acclaimed medic, a war hero, and a member of the up-and-coming new trio of Sannin.

All-in-all, she was quite talented in her own right, yet dread lingered over her like a cloud.

Why?

Well, her two roommates.

Sakura fell forward onto the plush couch, an amenity provided by a guilty Hokage. Upon their return to Konohagakure, she had been assigned to the "Uchiha Rehabilitation Program."

No, not her erstwhile teammate.

No, _he_ was living in Naruto's apartment (a punishment in itself). _Sakura_ had the two recently revived Uchiha clansmen living in her new, expanded apartment (courtesy of Tsunade-shishou).

Uchiha Madara and Uchiha Obito.

The current banes of her existence.

Madara was a constant pain in her ass. Always getting on her case about the smallest of details and fighting her every step of the way on all of her decisions. Who knew that one of Konoha's founders would be such a stir-crazy busybody?

Sakura groaned into the pillow, the muffled sound merely a pitiful whine.

"Ah, you're home Sakura-san?" a voice called cheerfully.

Sakura smothered the urge to groan again as the second bane of her existence approached, enthusiastic and kind as always. He was never mean or rude to Sakura but he certainly got under her skin just like Madara did. Obito was just too _nice_ , constantly giving her compliments and helping her out around the apartment. He also had this unfortunate habit of being constantly half-dressed. It was as if clothes just didn't like him or something.

"Hi, Obito," Sakura muttered, rolling over to face the man.

He stood above her, glancing quizzically at her slumped body. Of course, as per usual, he was only partially dressed, wearing lounge pants and an apron. "Are you well?" he asked, dark eyes confused and concerned.

"Don't worry about it," Sakura said, smiling softly. Even though he constantly flustered her, Obito was a very kind guy. "The hospital is just a little crazy right now, what with backlogged records and shinobi from all of the nations coming in for treatment."

Obito nodded, brushing a warm hand through her hair. Sakura felt warmed by his concern. "Obviously they want treatment from the best. Still, it is unfair to run you ragged like this. I know that living with us isn't always…easy." He flushed beneath his scars. "But know that we are both grateful."

Sakura snorted, turning her cheek into his rough hand. "Even Madara? I doubt it. Still I appreciate the gesture."

"What's got you so upset, girlie?" a new voice asked.

Sakura muffled her responding groan in the couch cushion, wondering idly if she could suffocate herself this way.

"Bad day I take it?" Madara said as he picked up her legs and took a seat at the end of the couch.

Sakura made another noise, this one in agreement.

"Well, I'm going to finish dinner," Obito said gently. "Madara…" he trailed off and Sakura had the feeling he was making some type of threatening gesture to the other man. Not that Madara, or Obito for that matter, could hurt her as their chakra was sealed and their Sharingan and Rinnegan active but incapable of harm. "Feel better Sakura-san."

Sakura snuffled, moving her hands beneath her head. She and Madara sat in silence as Sakura began to drift off to sleep.

She jumped as warm hands took hold of one of her feet, rubbing the tendons thoroughly. Madara didn't say anything and Sakura, not wanting to jinx anything, remained silent. It felt…nice actually.

Sakura could get used to this treatment.

* * *

"Sakura-chan!" Naruto exclaimed, bustling over to encircle her in an energetic hug. He was intercepted by Madara who picked him up by the scruff of his neck. "What gives?"

Madara merely shrugged, narrowing Sharingan-bright eyes onto the Uzumaki.

Sakura sighed, exchanging commiserating looks with Obito. Sasuke was attempting to be aloof, Sai was eyeing Naruto and Madara's interactions with interest, and Kakashi was nowhere to be found. (Sakura could understand as Kakashi was having a hard time with his returned best friend.)

Sakura was beginning to regret this decision to have a team dinner. At first it was only going to be Team Seven, then Madara found out and pitched the greatest hissy fit of all time. So, of course, an exhausted Sakura brought him along and Obito came to act as a buffer.

"This is a mistake," Sakura muttered to herself, making her way into the restaurant.

Sasuke made a grunting noise of assent. (Sakura counted that a major success.)

"No, not at all," Obito said, touching her shoulder in camaraderie. "This was a good idea, Madara's just…"

"Madara's just going to make it even better," Madara said, clapping a hand down on Sakura's shoulders and guiding her into the restaurant. He was giddy to be allowed outside of the apartment and he planned to take full advantage, making Team Seven's night a living hell. "Don't you worry, Sakura-chan."

Sakura bit her lip with apprehension as they all took a seat in one of the Akimichi restaurants.

This wasn't going to end well.

Unfortunately, her predictions proved true as she found herself leaving the restaurant barefoot and more than slightly singed thirty minutes later, dragging a laughing Madara the whole way.

"Damn it Madara!" Obito exclaimed in a rare outburst. "What the hell is your problem?"

Madara glared darkly at the man, the intimidation factor negated by the fact that he was being carried by a woman over a head shorter than him. "My _problem_ is having to be around those egotistic dumbasses all evening."

"You _wanted_ to come!" Sakura replied, exasperated. "You had no problem with the company this afternoon!"

Madara stopped speaking, crossing his arms as he started to sulk. How was he to know that Sakura was physically affectionate with her team members? She certainly never acted that way with him.

Who was to blame him if he got a little… _protective_? After all, she was the only person he had in this world aside from Obito.

Sakura sighed, shaking her head at his childish antics. "Whatever." Her stomach grumbled and Sakura remembered that she hadn't had anything at dinner aside from appetizers. "We have any leftovers?"

Obito brightened, eager to help as always. "Yes. Don't worry about that."

Sakura smiled. "Honestly it'll probably be better than whatever I was going to order anyway."

Obito chuckled shyly, smiling down at the girl.

Maybe the night was not so terrible after all.

* * *

"Alright, so try to activate your tomoes," Sakura said, concentrating on Obito's right eye.

Obito exhaled slowly, focusing on the familiar pathway to his eye. Sakura clucked as she examined the slight movement within the bright red eye. She grabbed Obito's face, adjusting the angle as she pulled him closer.

Obito felt his face warm but he valiantly tried to ignore it in favor of watching Sakura with the bright clarity that the Sharingan brought. She was glorious in her element and Obito found himself all the more infatuated.

Sakura nodded, muttering medical jargon to herself as her eyes flared as she activated her medical chakra.

Obito felt himself begin to smile, lips stretching his scars in a rather pleasant way.

Her idiosyncrasies were adorable.

Kami, he was head over heels.

Obito immediately mourned the loss as she pulled back, smiling in a satisfied way.

"Well, you are certainly doing well," Sakura said proudly. "The Curse is almost completely obliterated. How's your head?"

"I'm feeling well," Obito replied in a soft voice. "I've noticed a change in my general mood; I'm much happier."

"That's great!" she enthused, looking so happy for his sake. "Once we finish the erasing the Curse of Hatred I'll be speaking with Tsunade-shishou about lifting some of the restraints on your dōjutsu." She missed the surprised look on his face. "I've heard how the…pressure builds up in the eyes when dōjutsu users can't use their abilities."

"You would do that?" Obito asked, surprised. "After…after everything, you would trust me like that?"

"Of course," Sakura said frankly. "Why wouldn't I?" Her hand covered his. "You are a good man, Obito. You've…you've made mistakes in the past but you were trying to do what is right." Sakura shrugged, smiling slightly. "Kami knows that ninja have skewed moral compasses as it is…well, ninja aside from Naruto."

Obito smiled, shaking his head wryly. "You are something else Sakura."

Sakura regarded him. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult," she said before standing and exiting the room, hips swaying in a confident manner.

Obito sighed, dropping his head into his hands and grumbling to himself. He had no idea how he is going to survive this roommate situation.

* * *

"Oi, pinky, how's it going?" Madara asked, lounging indolently upon the couch.

Sakura didn't respond, merely eyeing the coils of cords as she struggled to figure out how exactly this all works.

"What is this device called again?" Obito asked, shifting the large object once more.

"A television," Sakura said. "Or TV. They use them in the Land of Iron and, since the treaty, they've been developed over here in Fire as well."

"How strange," Madara said. "And there will be little people inside the box? Like a personal play?"

"Something like that," Sakura said. "Except the people are not truly there, it's a recording…a sort of reflection of a play that has already taken place."

"And you are sure it isn't a genjutsu?" Obito said.

"Yeah," Sakura replied, fiddling with the knobs on the television once more, brow furrowed in concentration. She was an expert surgeon and medic; she could figure this damn device out. "No jutsu or chakra involved, just…electricity and currents and…" she trailed off, biting back a curse as she snagged her finger on an exposed wire. "Shikamaru could explain it better."

"Is it attacking you?" Madara demanded, moving from the couch to hover behind her. "Damn it Sakura, answer me!"

Sakura laughed at his flustered behavior, shaking her head. "No, the television is an inanimate object, it can't really hurt me."

"Even the electricity?" Madara asked, eyes narrow and Sharingan bright. "That comes from the element of lightning and we all know how dangerous lightning-imbued chakra can be."

"It isn't quite as potent," she said, gingerly plugging the biggest cord into the newly installed wall socket.

Sakura was ready to jump back if something bad occurs.

Unknown to her, both Uchiha were prepared to scoop her away from any threat of danger.

Nothing happened.

"Alright," Sakura said, hopping to her feet as she clapped her hands. She could not help but feel excited. "Let's try it out."

All three shinobi raced to the couch, trying to get the best spot. Sakura found herself perched a bit uncomfortably upon the back of the couch. She purposefully dug her knee into Madara's shoulder, forcing him to scoot over slightly. Obito sat on her other side, a perfect gentleman in comparison to Madara.

"Alright," Sakura said, clasping the remote covered in tiny buttons. She pressed the bright red one at the top left, jumping slightly as the television crackles to life. "Alright," she said once more, trying to remain steady and calm.

"They-they're moving!" Madara exclaimed, eyes scrutinizing the people dancing across the screen.

"And talking!" Obito said, clutching at Sakura's free hand.

Sakura turned to the men at her sides, unable to contain a grin as she caught both of their Sharingan activated. There was something incredibly endearing about their enthusiasm, an excitement that she shared.

So she sat—a bit uncomfortable—squished between the men responsible for the last Great War.

Her roommates.

Still, Sakura found that there is no place that she would rather be.

She was…happy.

* * *

"So explain this to me again," Madara said, scrutinizing the stove. "How does this work?"

Obito sighed, dropping his whisk back into the bowl and turning to assist Madara. "Flick the switch right here to turn the oven on. You can set it to a certain temperature." He went back to his bowl. "In this case, we need it set at 375º."

"Okay," Madara said, crouching in front of the device.

Obito hoped for the best, knowing well how little Madara understood technology. Still, he wanted to be an active participant in cooking for once and Obito was not going to dissuade him. It might be a minor thing but Obito counted it a significant breakthrough in Madara's rehabilitation.

Madara actually wanted—Kami forbid—to do something _nice_.

For _Sakura_.

Obito knew that Madara did not specifically dislike the girl, in fact, he might count her among his very few friends. Still, Madara reveled in taunting and tormenting the girl, working her into a fury and laughing his ass off about it. Usually he made disparaging comments about her relationship with the youngest Uchiha scion.

Obito disapproved of the relationship as well but he certainly wasn't going to say anything about it.

So, when Madara approached him, asking for his help to cook something for Sakura, Obito leapt at the opportunity.

Which led them to now, as Obito whipped the batter and Madara fiddled with the oven.

Everything was going well.

 _Too_ well.

"Oh shi—!" Madara exclaimed before Obito caught the acrid scent of smoke.

"What is going on?" a new voice demanded.

Sakura looked around the pandemonium that was her kitchen and sighed, taking a heavy seat in one of the chairs. She honestly wasn't even surprised to find her apartment in this state: smoke billowing from the oven, burnt bits everywhere, and…was that egg on the ceiling? It was rather amusing to watch two renowned shinobi of high caliber scramble around, trying to fix their mess.

Sakura decided she would just enjoy the show, smirk growing with every panicked motion.

"I am so sorry Sakura-san!" Obito called above Madara's shouts and curses. "We'll get this cleaned up!"

"It's alright," Sakura said, flapping a hand to wave his worries away. "I must ask though, what were you trying to do?"

"What's it matter to you?" Madara asked, staring her down in an attempt to intimidate her.

Sakura was unimpressed.

"We were going to bake you something," Obito said. "It was Madara's idea actually."

Sakura was mildly impressed by how red Madara turned at the comment.

She was delighted.

"How thoughtful, Madara!" she cooed, grinning at the near puce shade of his face. "You're such a sweetheart."

"Shut up," he hissed, very much the spitting image of a ruffled cat. "I am _not_!"

"Well," Sakura said, standing and throwing open a few windows to relieve the smell a bit. "I appreciate the gesture. How about I take you boys out somewhere nice for dinner?"

"You are very kind," Obito said, brushing a gentle hand over her bared shoulder. She shivered. "What did you have in mind?"

"The Akimichi place," she replied. "After we all change our clothes of course." Sakura wrinkled her nose. "It smells a bit bad in here, no offense."

"Are your teammates coming?" Madara asked, sauntering over and throwing an arm around her shoulders.

"I wasn't planning on inviting them," Sakura said.

"Perfect," Madara said with a bright grin, bounding away, earlier embarrassment completely forgotten.

"Thank you," said Obito, looking at Sakura. "Truly…thank you."

Sakura's smile softened, knowing that he meant much, much more than just for dinner.

"Don't worry about it," Sakura said. "While it may be bedlam at times, _especially_ when the television is on, I'm glad you two are my roommates."

Obito smiled, tracing a gentle hand along the contour of her cheek, not quite touching it. "See you shortly."

Sakura grinned, heading to her room as she listened to the Uchiha banter and mutter in the background.

Her heart leapt for a moment.

There's no place she would rather be.

* * *

 _Notes:_ the NSFW counterpart to fluff friday, "smut monday" is present on my ao3 account (same name as here) and my tumblr (thefreckledone). check it out there if you're interested.


	3. rivalry prompt

"rivalry" prompt [uzusaku]

* * *

"So, are you running?"

Sakura turns, glancing at Ino. Her best friend stands over her, hands on her hips as she stares down at Sakura.

Ino holds up her camera in a teasing manner. "C'mon, I'll be your campaign manager!"

Sakura shrugs, grabbing her messenger bag and throwing it over her shoulder. "I don't know, Ino. Seriously, who's going to be able to fill Hashirama's shoes? He was the best president our school ever had."

Ino just rolls her eyes, elbowing Sakura. "Don't put yourself down like that! _You_ are going to be an even better president without a doubt. Hashirama was a bit of an idiot."

Sakura snorts and places an arm around Ino's hips. "What the hell; let's do it!"

Ino claps her hands together. "That's perfect! Alright, I'll catch up with you at the diner tonight; I need to plan!"

"Okay," Sakura says, heading toward the door. "My shift ends at 5:30, want to meet at 6?"

"Make it 6:15," Ino replies. "I know you're riding your bike."

"Sounds great!" Sakura says.

Ino's eyes follow Sakura as she makes her way out the door, a slow smirk spreading across her face.

She has some texting to do.

 **Group Message:  
** **[11:33 AM] guess who needs a vp~~~!**

Ino turns away from the door, ignoring the frantic buzzing of her phone as she makes her way to the rooftop where Shikamaru is bound to be.

Let the games begin.

* * *

"We're about to close," Aiko announces, staring at her daughter's best friend with affection. "Could you close down? Inoichi is taking me out to dinner."

"No problem at all," Sakura replies. "I'll give the keys back to Ino when I meet her tonight."

"Thank you dear," Aiko says, bussing a kiss across Sakura's cheek and passing her the keys. "You are wonderful."

"No worries at all," says Sakura, smile bright and earnest. "I hope your date goes well."

Aiko nods, sailing through the door and leaving Sakura to the tinkling of bells and the heady scent of flowers.

Sakura hums to herself, shifting a few of the potted plants onto carts to be brought to the back.

"Sakura!" a voice exclaims.

Sakura whirls, hydrangea hefted high and ready to lob at the intruder.

The figure is obviously male, dressed in a leather jacket. He has beat-up jeans. His face is masked by a motorcycle helmet.

"Whoa, whoa!" Menma says, bringing his hands up and removing his helmet. "Not the face!"

"Menma," Sakura says, relaxing and placing the plant on the trolley. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I love it when you talk dirty to me," Menma purrs, eyes lidded as he stares at her.

Sakura is unimpressed.

"Moving along," Menma says. "I heard that you are running for student body president."

"You've already heard?" Sakura asks. "Ino is really on top of this campaign manager thing."

"Mhm, sure," Menma says, "In any case, you'll be needing a vice president."

"I'm pretty sure they are voted for separately," Sakura replies. "High school elections aren't exactly the same as national."

Menma flaps a hand, unconcerned. "Semantics. You know Hashirama and Madara ran as a duo and they were quite successful."

Sakura nods. "You're right. That's something I'll consider I guess."

"And have you thought of any candidates?" Menma asks, doing his best to flex subtly.

"You only just gave me the idea," Sakura laughs. "Of course not!"

"Well, I hope that you would consider—"

"Sakura-chan!"

The pair turns. Before them stands a blond, bent over and panting.

"Naruto?" they ask at the same time.

Uzumaki Naruto, Menma's fraternal twin.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" Menma demands, unwittingly echoing Sakura's earlier question to him.

Naruto glares at his brother. "You know exactly why, dear _brother_."

The air crackles with tension and Sakura glances between them, befuddled. They'd been fine a day ago at school.

What changed?

"Kaa-san needs you at home," Naruto says, breath still hard and uneven. "Why don't you head on? Your phone is off; it's got her worried."

Menma bites back the curse he is about to aim at Naruto when Sakura turns her gaze to him, imploringly.

"Please go see her," she says. "It isn't fair to worry Kushina-san."

Menma sighs, brushing his dark hair out of his eyes. "Fine. I'll talk to you later, Sakura." He gives his brother an unreadable look even as he directs his statement at Sakura. "Our conversation isn't over."

So saying, Menma storms from the shop, leaving Sakura and Naruto to linger behind awkwardly.

Sakura clears her throat. "Anyway, I need to finish closing up. I'm meeting with Ino pretty soon."

"That's alright!" Naruto replies, blue eyes sincere. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Don't ask that," Sakura warns. "I'll be an absolute taskmaster."

Naruto's eyes crinkle as he grins. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Sakura laughs, nudging him over to some shears. "Alright then, Naruto, you asked for it. If you would go around the room and cut off any dead and withered bits off the plants?"

"Of course!" Naruto replies. "You can trust me!"

Sakura giggles, shaking her head at his antics. She goes back to moving the potted plants around, tidying up the work space. She and Naruto work in companionable silence.

"Hey Sakura-chan," Naruto begins, uncharacteristically hesitant, "I heard that you are running for student body president."

Sakura nods, still a bit flabbergasted by how quickly the news has travelled. "Yeah, Ino convinced me to throw my hat into the ring. I don't know how far I'll get, but…"

Naruto places his hand over hers, drawing his attention. "I have no doubt in my mind that you're going to win it, Sakura-chan. You're going to be the best president our school's ever or will ever have!"

"Thank you Naruto," Sakura says. "Aren't you running as well? I know you've wanted this since middle school."

Naruto shrugs, hands still clasping Sakura's. "I don't think I'm suited for that particular role. However, I was wondering if you needed…"

He is cut off by the jarring ring of Sakura's phone. Sakura smiles at him apologetically, removing her hands from his and fumbling for her phone.

"Hello? Are you serious? I had no idea…yeah, I'll be there soon," Sakura says, ignorant of Naruto's crestfallen expression.

He can still feel the warmth of her hands fitting perfectly in his.

Sakura turns her attention back to Naruto, a slight frown on her face. "I am so sorry Naruto, but I have to go. I had no idea what time it is but I have to meet Ino at the diner." She leans forward, wrapping her arms around Naruto in a tight embrace. She is oblivious to the way he flushes. "Thank you so much for all your help today. You're the best."

"Don't worry about it," Naruto replies, eyes sliding shut as he returns her hug. Everything is perfect for one brief, fleeting moment. Then Sakura is pulling away. "I'll catch you later," Naruto says. "Have fun with Ino."

Sakura nods and the two walk out of the flower shop as Sakura finishes locking up. Sakura waves him goodbye before hopping on her bike and pedaling off.

Naruto waves at her in return, smile and hand falling as she disappears.

"Damn it," he mutters.

* * *

Sakura rushes into the diner, breathless and flustered.

Ino is in their regular booth, rifling through some papers. Sakura thinks she can see her face on a few of them.

"The usual?" Konan asks, smile teasing and bright.

"Of course," Sakura replies, falling into her seat across from Ino. "Thank you, Konan."

"Are you alright?" Ino asks, concern writ clear on her face. "You look exhausted."

"I'm fine," Sakura replies. "What's all this?"

"Campaign stuff. I got Chōji and Shikamaru to help me with the prints. We made a few different types. Which one is your favorite?"

Sakura begins to flip through the pictures, sorting them in order of her preferences.

"Sakura!"

Sakura and Ino glance up to see Uzumaki Karin standing before them. She scoots in beside Sakura, hips touching.

"How's the campaigning going?" she asks.

"It's great," Ino enthuses though there is an odd look in her eyes. "What are you doing _here_? I thought you were going to come by later."

Karin shrugs, leg brushing up against Sakura's. "Plans change."

Ino gives her a frustrated look, shaking her head. Instead of speaking, she pulls out her phone.

 **Ginger Four Eyes:  
** **[06:39 PM] what the hell are you DOING?! this isn't the plan!**

Karin glares at Ino and mouths, "Deal with it."

Sakura glances between her two friends, confused by their sudden animosity.

"What's up bitches, Sakura?" a voice crows.

Sakura looks behind her to find Uzumaki Tayuya leaning over the vinyl booth, grinning down at her.

"Good to see you Tayuya!" Sakura greets, ignoring Ino's soft groan and Karin's near growl.

Tayuya nods. "Of course it is," she says, ruffling Sakura's hair.

She vaults the back of the booth, sliding into the window seat. Sakura is squeezed tightly between Tayuya and Karin.

Tayuya is still dressed in her lacrosse gear and smells of sweat and earth. She throws an easy arm over Sakura's shoulders, a wide, taunting smirk on her face that she directs toward Karin.

"So Sakura, I hear you're the new damn president," Tayuya says.

Sakura laughs, shaking her head. "I'm running; I haven't been elected yet."

"Well the lacrosse team is behind you," Tayuya says earnestly. "And if anyone fucking dares to talk trash," Her expression is thunderous, "they'll be very sorry."

"Um…thank you," Sakura says, touched by the sentiment behind Tayuya's violent words. "We'll see how the campaign goes."

"Which reminds me, _Sakura_ , you will need a vice president to run at your side," Karin says.

"You guys _really_ don't understand how high school elections work do you?" Sakura asks.

Karin ignores her comment "Anyway, I was wondering if I could be your vice—"

Two things happen at once to interrupt Karin.

The first is Konan setting an enormous platter of fluffy waffles before Sakura with a wink and a: "On the house, sweetheart."

The second is a wrestling and shouting duo that consists of Menma and Naruto falling through the front door of the diner.

"You aren't supposed to be here, bastard!" Menma yells.

"Neither are you, moron!" Naruto replies, punching him.

"Oh hell yeah," Tayuya says, leaping over the booth and joining the fray. "Neither of you are worthy!" she howls.

Karin stands with a sigh, moving to separate her rowdy cousins.

Sakura glances at the Uzumaki clan before returning her gaze to a guilty looking Ino.

"What the hell did you do?" she demands.

Ino laughs nervously, cornflower blue eyes on the fight. "Well…you know how you're running for student body president? I might have told…a _few_ people that you'd need a VP."

Sakura groans, slouching into her seat.

This election is going to be one to remember.


	4. angel prompt

"Angel" prompt [indrasakuashu]

wind, light, & dust

* * *

Sakura climbs into her car, squinting against the sand that blows across the desert. The sun is red and full in the sky, pregnant with the unfulfilled opportunities of the day. She coughs, mouth dry as bone as she scrabbles around her dashboard for her water bottle.

"It is not safe for you out here," a voice says.

"Leave me be, Ashura," Sakura says, leaning her forehead against her wheel. Between her sweat and the sweltering heat, it sticks there. "Can't you see I'm brooding?"

"You are not a bird; you have no eggs to hatch."

Sakura rolls her eyes, still refusing to look his way. "Cut the shit, Ashura. You _know_ what I meant."

"I care not for your ever-changing human definitions. Naught but a few centuries ago, brood meant to breed and nothing more."

"Well, we're an ever-changing species," Sakura says. "You get used to it."

"I'd rather not."

Sakura exhales deeply, squeezing her eyes shut and pulling away from the steering wheel, leaving it tacky with sweat.

She glances over to passenger seat, taking in her unwelcome guest. It…he…Sakura still isn't sure but she considers him male, is large and foreboding. His awe-inspiring presence is slightly negated by the way he is squeezed into her car. He has six feathered wings, all covered by eyes of varying shapes and sizes. She cannot really make out a discernable face of any sort and she idly wonders how exactly he fits into her car. Maybe it is one of his divine qualities.

"Ashura, why don't you take your human form," she coaxes. "It'd be a bit more comfortable and hella less creepy."

He bends in what she thinks is a nod before being enveloped in a blindingly bright light. Sakura turns her gaze back to the darkening landscape.

"Sakura, you are HER Angel," Ashura says. "You must stay in safety as you receive your training."

"I don't want this," she replies, still staring out the window. "I don't know this 'her' and I am certainly no angel."

"SHE is not 'her' but 'HER,'" Ashura explains as if it truly clarifies anything. "You are HER Angel, HER messenger, HER prophetess. You will be HER advocate, the herald to HER next coming."

Sakura shakes her head, finally looking back to him. Ashura is now in his human form, tall and dark haired. He still looks out of place with his hairstyle and antiquated clothing. There is something alien about his dark eyes, maybe in the curve or in the way no light is reflected.

"I do not understand," she says. "How can I be Kaguya-kami's angel? I thought you were her angel."

"HER Angel," Ashura corrects. "And no, it is not the same. Your English word 'angel' is derived from the Greek ὰγγελος. It means 'messenger.' I am one of HER descendants, a child of the light." His expression is oddly wistful. "But you…you are a child of the wind and dust; a child of free will."

Sakura squirms slightly. He has tried to explain this to her on numerous occasions but she still finds herself lost. There is too much history and context that is beyond Sakura's scope.

"How am I a candidate to be the Rabbit Goddess's Angel?" Sakura asks. "I'm an ordinary human."

"No human is ordinary," Ashura replies firmly. "As I said, you are a child of free will. You are HER chosen; you are extraordinary."

Sakura flushes but she clears her throat. "Your…I believe he was your brother? He approached me."

"Indra?" Ashura asks in alarm.

The air around him heats and vibrates with his invisible wings.

"Whoa, calm down!" Sakura says, bracing herself against the heat. She can feel her skin blistering wherever it is bared. "Not all of us are celestial beings with impervious skin."

Ashura immediately stops, remorse clear as he reaches a hand out gingerly. He takes her arm, fingers gentle and soothing. Sakura finds the texture of his skin odd, somehow feathery. He brings her elbow to his face, blowing cool, wintry air across her skin. His lips touch her skin ever so slightly.

Sakura finds the bracing chill wonderful. It spreads from her elbow, down her arm, through her torso to the burns upon her legs. Sakura sighs softly, slumping into her seat.

"What did Indra want?" Ashura asks, still holding her arm.

Sakura shrugs as best she can. "He asked me to be his…acolyte? Yeah, his acolyte. Said some stuff about his grand destiny, his right to be a god, yada, yada, yada…"

Ashura's hand tightens on her elbow. "And how did you respond?"

Sakura snorts. "What do you think? I told him to go to hell and punched him in the face." She is oblivious to his horrified expression. "He was really surprised and tried to threaten me and then he said something ominous along the lines of: 'I'll be back.' Then he left." She pauses, glancing at him askance. "Why are his wings black?"

Ashura shakes his head, disappearing from the car.

Sakura glances at the spot he left, the scent of ozone and lightning lingering. A few feathers are in the floorboard.

"So he sheds? Never letting him live that down."

* * *

"What were you thinking, you fool? Daring to approach HER Chosen? Have you no sense or shame?" Ashura asks.

"Brother," Indra greets, sinuous smirk clear on his face. "How nice to see you. It's been what; three centuries? Time sure flies when you're exiled." His jovial expression melts into a scowl, eyes bright red. "Or not at all since, again, I'm _exiled_."

"You made your choice," Ashura says. "You chose to be a Fallen Child."

"It is the only choice offered us if we ever want to be _free_ ," Indra says, sauntering forward. "You desire free will do you not? The only taste of freedom you'll ever have is if you Fall."

Ashura shakes his head. "And what has that given you? Freedom to wallow in isolation and madness? No thank you."

"At least it was my choice to make," Indra hisses. "I see you still fulfill grandmother's Will in all things."

"Leave HER Angel alone," Ashura says tightly. "She is not yours to take."

"You mean Sakura? Quite an interesting choice for a Messenger; very different from previous candidates," Indra says, smile large. "She has no fear nor respect for things greater than she."

" _You_ are not greater than her. None of us are. She is a child of wind and dust and HER Chosen besides," Ashura says. "Stay away from her."

"You care for her," Indra says, blinking at the revelation. It is such an oddly human gesture that it takes Ashura aback. "This is the first time you've interfered in my affairs on behalf of a human, even one who may be HER Champion." His eyes are bright with contemplation. "I can, of course, understand your interest. She is…riveting. She burns brightly but fleetingly; remember that."

"You needn't concern yourself with me, Fallen," Ashura says stiffly. "Stay away."

"I shall not. This is one heavenly intervention that I do _not_ want to miss. Be ready for Sakura to turn on you. She is too wild and independent to be bound by divine requests," Indra says, spreading his black wings, covered as they are by red eyes, and flying away.

Ashura watches him go, a pit of dread boiling within him.

Despite himself, he cannot forget the feeling of Sakura's skin beneath his lips and the heady scent of human (sweat, dust, and blood) that surrounds her.

For the first time in his existence, Ashura can understand why Indra Fell.


End file.
